Shattered Past and Shrouded Future
by Kalas M. Fons
Summary: After Hector's defeat, Ein has become a legend and now. Rumors have spread of a place called 'Hell' beneath Mireno Cemetery and that demons are stalking the area about the Cemetary, and the Magi have sent a Grim Angel to investigate.


_What is time? Past, present future?_

_A continuous string._

_But what happens, when the string is cut?_

**Chapter I: Duty**

A young, black winged boy swooped all about; a small eagle-like animal almost wobbled forwards. _Dreams, perhaps? Or could it be a fantasy? _There was however, one thing the Grim Angel called Eallan knew it was not. _A memory. _There was, no conceivable way that could be true. One glance at the jagged green blade fastened to his hip was all it took to remind him that he _had _no memories. He had given them up, given them up for duty.

As a Grim Angel, Eallan was required to surrender something; he had chosen to surrender his memories. He had even forgotten what he was; he had even forgotten his own name, but it had come back to him. And besides, his Diviner, Nysenda, was worth it.

It was all part of the Magi's test, all right, the Magi's game, a game they played with every single Grim Angel, even _after _the Hector incident ten years ago. The Magi were the seven great magicians that were currently playing _'substitute teacher' _for the gods.

Eallan jumped up on top of the dull gray twist of rock that looked over the realm called Mireno. The now legendary Ein had traveled here. But for some obscure reason, the Magi wanted him to explore the doors that go to a place called _'Hell'_.

"Really," he said to himself, "Wasn't Utgard go—well bad enough?"

"I wouldn't know," said a wise voice from his shoulder.

Eallan smiled slightly at the small eagle perched beside his right ear, "Well, I suppose we're going to find out, Arke."

The little eagle would have smiled, "Maybe," he clicked through his beak. Then a bluish image drew itself through the air, resolving into a tall figure in blue and purple.

Instantly, Eallan dropped to one knee. "Magi Ashcroft," Eallan acknowledged.

"_Have you entered Mireno?" _said the slightly muffled voice of the fifth Magi, as if it came from deep within the ground.

"No milord," Eallan stated, stiffly and crisply, "The ghost town lies just below the hill I am on now."

"_Very good," _Ashcroft responded with a quick nod and a slight smile, _"Finding the gates is of the utmost importance, Asgard intelligence reports that a powerful dark source is radiating from beneath the cemetery, and according to Ein, that is where Hell is."_

"I understand. But milord, if I may trouble you with boldness," Eallan paused for an brief moment, when Ashcroft made no sign, he continued, "This source, why are you sending me? I have not proved myself once, where as a more proven Angel, like Ein could--."

"_Because. All the angels. Must prove themselves," _Ashcroft said very slowly. _"Excuse me." _And the bluish ghostlike form evaporated.

A bit too late, Eallan responded, "Yes milord." Then he glided from the top of the ridge to the ruin that had once been Mireno. The dilapidated buildings looked like dead bodies, which is to say, they were extremely run down. They were as dead, as everything else here.

Or at least, everything _seemed_ dead, but dead things do not make sounds, dead things are supposed to be quiet and _remain _quiet. So what was it that had made a rock fall down, making the sound of shifting stone? Time could have worn away the rocks and merely loosened a stone and it could have chosen that moment to fall, maybe just to scare a certain Grim Angel that happened to be passing at that very moment.

Eallan didn't think so. Cautiously, he drew his Diviner, Nysenda, before peering his silver haired head around the doorframe, and what he saw, chilled him.

_Demons._ Three of them, hobgoblins by the look of it, and on the ground…could that be a sprite? Well, it looked like one, a small one, with bare, hairy feet. _A hobbit. _Eallan frowned; he saw two problems with this. One, there shouldn't be any sprites here, not in Mireno cemetery, everything should be dead. And two, now that was what bothered him, there shouldn't be _any _demons left alive; the now legendary Ein had destroyed the Progenitors, the source of demons.

_So this mission isn't just a hunch, _he thought. And then, he acted.

The jagged green blade of Nysenda flashed once in a horizontal motion, one slash was all it took. One slash led to three bursts of emerald fire, which sent three hobgoblins against a decaying wall with a thud, then reduced the demons to a charcoal-like substance that shattered when what was three hobgoblins hit the ground. Eallan had expected that side effect, he had been trained to, all demons devolved into something.

"Demons?" the familiar, Arke, said from Eallan's shoulder.

"That isn't pos—" Eallan was cut off.

"Here's an idea! How 'bout you help that sprite?"

"Always watching out for me?" Eallan said smiling. Then the eagle nodded.

Eallan removed his black cape and wrapped the hobbit up, before laying him back on the ground. It was not long before the hobbit began to stir.

Author's Note:

When playing Riviera, one might notice that when one defeats an enemy, they dissolve, well up at my asterisk I took a bit of poetic license, I hope no one minds to much.

Also, this is my first fan fiction, so if it's terrible, I'm sorry.


End file.
